


Family links

by atlantisdesetoiles



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Family, Gen, Memories, POV, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 06:28:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14514510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlantisdesetoiles/pseuds/atlantisdesetoiles
Summary: The events of the comics Wasted land from the POV of Roadhog... and a little what if?...





	Family links

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes up the events of the comics Wasted Land, but from the point of view of Roadhog and with one of my headcanons (many and sometimes contradictory when it comes to the Junkers).  
> I apologise, for English is not my native language.

Bruce had been generous, and the afternoon would have been almost good had he not decided to go for a drink precisely in the watering hole where the brutes of the Queen had decided to corner their new prey.  
Junkrat. This name reminded him of something. But what ? He fumbled around in his memory while hardly raising his mask to swallow a sip of the piss the bartender called beer.  
Junkrat... Ah, yes, a miserable chatty Junker. Rumor had it that he blew up his missing arm and leg himself. Roadhog would not have been surprised if that was the case.  
He frowned, pulling up his mask for another sip. Other memories scratched at the door of his conscience and, confusedly, he repressed them. Junkrat... Jim... Jimmy... George... Something like that... J... Fawkes. Yes, the Junker's name was Fawkes. He did not want to remember. It hurt too much. Anyway, Fawkes must not be so rare a last name. No ? He did not want to remember but it was too late. The memories came back like big bubbles in the nauseating septic tank that was his mind.  
He remembered everything as if it were yesterday. He was young then. Young and hopeful. Hopeful in the future. He remembered the altar under the coconut trees, his black suit and the beautiful cream dress She wore. She was so beautiful, with her long hair, squattered of hundreds of small white flowers, flying freely in the wind and her eyes shining with joy and love. They were going to become husband and wife. Saying yes forever or until death does them part. It had happened too soon. Much too early. But on that day there was only joy and happiness.  
Fawkes. The husband of his future sister-in-law. A tall, leggy man with golden hair and a huge smile. With a big laugh, as frank as his handshake. Mako had only seen him on this occasion, but he immediately liked him. He remembered the gigantic barbecue that followed. He had talked a little with his sister-in-law, whose resemblance to his wife he could not help but notice. The eyes especially. Almost as beautiful as Hers. They had discussed. Not very long. Directly she has addressed the sensitive question: "When are you two gonna have a child?" Mako did not know. The idea pleased him, but it was not their priority. She insisted. They had a son and, with a conspiratorial look and a hand on her stomach, she let slip that soon, the latter would have a little sister. It would be nice if the little ones had cousins their own age to play with. He had dodged the question by pretending to have to greet someone, and wiggled away. He was never to see them again. Eight months later, he learned that he was going to be a dad, and not even two years later, all his life disappeared in a radioactive cloud.  
The Fawkes. He did not even know what they had become. How old would their children be were they still alive? In their twenties ? Twenty-five. Twenty-seven, at the outmost.  
He vaguely felt that people were talking to him. Out of his daydreaming, he focused.  
"... percent share! "  
He turned for the first time. A tall, half-bald grasshopper cornered by the Queen's dogs. Skinny, bony, filthy and as stinking as all the inhabitants of Junkertown. But the only thing he really saw was the Junker's eyes. Two liquid copper irises, expressive and alive. Two eyes he thought he would never see again but in his saddest memories.  
One of the brutes approached him without him noticing. He only caught the end of the sentence. That moron just insulted him. Not that he needed that to help the young man that called out to him, but it gave him one more reason to beat them up. Nobody insulted him, it was common knowledge. Unwillingly breaking his mug, he threw his fist into the face of the man, which made a very satisfying noise.  
The fight did not last long. He sat down in front of a new glass of beer while the young Fawkes was spouting out nonsense. What an idiot. An idiot with his father's smile and the eyes of his mother... just like those of his aunt. The eyes of the love of his life. This jerk was his nephew. A link, probably the last, to everything he had ever loved.  
Something stirred inside him. Feelings he thought he had buried along with the man named Mako Rutledge. He would examine them later. For the moment, it was necessary to take that idiot out of there. After the mess they had made, the bar would not stay empty for long. He finished his glass. As the world had tried to forget them, he had tried to forget his past. He would not make the same mistake twice.  
Junkrat. Jamison Fawkes. An idiot, a moron, a liar, especially to himself, but it did not matter. He had no lesson to give him on that matter and they were from the same family. The young Fawkes was not quiet. All the better. The world deserved him. It deserved them both. Together, they would make sure they don't forget it!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank's for reading. Please, tell me if you see some mistakes. Review and critiques are always welcome.  
> Also let me know, if you want more of the "Nephew Au".  
> PS: This fanfic also exist in french on my FF account (atlantisdesetoiles).


End file.
